Chocolate Coated Chaos
by everlovingdeer
Summary: "That girl – the one that made an entire fool of herself for you-you have to understand – that girl wasn't me."
1. Chocolate Coated Chaos

I'd often been told that I had a flair for the dramatic. But this, this was _not_ my being dramatic. No, this was a warranted reaction. What sort of person went headfirst into a situation where they knew they were going to have the absolute piss taken out of them? A right idiot, that's who. I might have been a lot of things, but an idiot wasn't one of them. Hell, the blue and bronze tie I was very reluctantly fixing around my neck proved otherwise.

"Would you quit it, Hanlin," Padma called out from her bed with a sigh. Rising to her feet, my closest friend crossed the dorm room with quick steps and swatted my hands away from my tie with a tut.

"Are you sure I can't just skip breakfast?" I asked with a slight whine, frowning at the unimpressed look Padma shared with Mandy.

"And miss the most important meal of the day?" Mandy said with a sarcastic smile, "You _know_ that the self-assigned mother of the sixth year Eagles won't let that happen."

Padma shot the blonde girl a glare, stepping away from me and straightening out her robes. "I know you're teasing me, but your words are the truth. Now Hanlin, are you coming or am I going to have to get Boot to physically drag you out to the great hall?"

"Like he could try," I grumbled under my breath only to sigh. "Fine, fine, let's go."

" _Thank you!"_ Mandy threw her hands in the air. "Let's go. I'm starved."

"Alright, _alright,"_ I murmured, taking another moment to steady myself. If all else failed, I'd just hex the first idiot to bring the words out of their mouth. "Let's get this train wreck over and done with."

Merlin, I was too utterly terrified of what would happen that I was actually contemplating skipping out on lessons and it was only the first day back! I knew, deep down I _knew_ that the only reason no one had said anything last night during the welcoming feast was because they were too hungry, too eager to see how many first years they were going to be welcoming to their house this year. I'd thanked my good luck and took the opportunity to head up to the dorm as soon as possible, not willing to tempt luck.

But now, now they would remember. It was only natural that they'd remember because I'd put on such a show that it was impossible for anyone to possibly forget! When I got my hands on the Weasley twins I was going to kill them! Except – except, the twins had left school last year so where was I going to find them now? I couldn't very well march into their shop to kick up a fuss, now could I?

Them and their bloody stupid pranks. Who decided that a box of chocolates laced with love potions was a good idea to make? Last year, in the last term, I had fallen victim to one of their pranks which apparently had been created to improve the love life of their youngest brother. Quite why _I_ had been the victim of the box of chocolates, I had no idea but still, it happened. I'd made a right fool of myself and why, _why_ had it needed to be me?

Letting out a deep breath, I smiled gratefully at Padma when she took my arm in hers. Together we walked towards the great hall and if each subsequent step grew slower and slower, she made no comment on it. Instead, she silently urged me forward and I had to be thankful for it. Without her by my side I wouldn't have come down for breakfast, and who knows how long I would have ended up hiding away for?

Entering the great hall with Padma by my side gave me some bravery which was only further cemented when no one even turned towards the doors when they opened. With steps that grew ever easier, I approached the Ravenclaw table and settled down for a very much needed breakfast. Helping myself to a slice of toast, I narrowed my eyes at the boys that had decided to settle down across from me.

Terry, a welcome face, elbowed his dormmate who was sat beside him and shook his head as if to warn him against something. And Merlin, if Entwhistle was going to do what I thought he was, then I was going to hex him. Pulling my wand from my pocket, I settled it harmlessly on the table top, but it delivered the necessary warning. Entwhistle cleared his throat, pouring himself a cup of tea.

"Let me just take that," Padma muttered under her breath, reaching around me to snag my wand quickly. Ignoring my outraged eyes, she pocketed my wand as she said unnecessarily, "We both know how trigger happy you are."

"Padma!"

She ignored me, turning back to her food. "I'll give it back on the way to Charms."

"Mum friend indeed," I grumbled under my breath.

Entwhistle, now reassured that he was unlikely to face any consequences, straightened up in his seat. The glare I threw his way did nothing to deter him as he leaned conspiratorially across the table. "So, are you and Weasley together now or something?"

"Piss off," I spat, watching as Padma reached into her pocket with a sigh and held out my wand towards me.

"Have at it," she said with a shake of her head.

"Thank you." Taking my wand back, I pointed it towards my housemate who rapidly paled. "Piss off Entwhistle, unless you want to lose your last two brain cells."

Finally getting the hint, Entwhistle rose to his feet and headed further down the table. Terry watched his dormmate go with a shake of his head before looking apologetically towards me.

"I told the pillock not to say anything." Terry shook his head. "Merlin knows he's been hexed by you before to know you're fully capable of doing much worse than giving him boils."

"Well, we all know that he's not got a complete working mind," I grumbled under my breath.

Merlin, I could not wait for this all to blow over. But who knew how long it would take for people to forget. I allowed my eyes to stray towards the Gryffindor table for a fraction of a second; the sooner Potter and his friends made some more trouble, the sooner this would end. I couldn't pray for it to come any quicker.

* * *

A week. It took just one week for the 'Golden Trio' to begin their troublemaking and whilst the majority of the students in the castle were annoyed at them, I for one welcomed it with open arms. With the entire castle now focusing on the latest escapades of the Gryffindors, no one was concerned about the show I had put on last year. I gratefully accepted the change. With no one bothering to tease me about Weasley, I could breath easier and walk freely through the corridors of the castle. My zeal towards my lessons returned knowing that I didn't have to wait nervously to see if someone else would decide to send an embarrassing note to me in the middle of the lesson.

That was until I walked into my Transfiguration class to find a folded piece of paper waiting for me in my seat. I hesitated, staring down at the parchment on the chair and picked it up with shaking fingers. Rowena, I knew it was too good to be true. Setting my bag on the table, I sat down with a sigh and unfolded the paper. There was really no point in delaying the inevitable.

"What's that?" Morag asked as she took her seat beside me, leaning curiously to read over my shoulder. "What the _hell_ is that?"

"Some really shitty poetry," I muttered in irritation, scrunching the parchment in my fist. Clenching my jaw tight, I tried not to drop my head onto the table top. Merlin, I knew it was too easy for people to forget.

Although the parchment – the horrendous attempt at poetry – had been unsigned, I knew exactly who it was. Only one person had such atrocious handwriting. Dumping the parchment into my bag with a look of distaste, I retrieved the things I needed for the lesson.

But even as I rifled through my bag, I couldn't help the annoyed glance I shot towards the red-headed Gryffindor. He paid no heed to my gaze – Rowena, he probably didn't even notice it. Weasley was far too busy talking to his friends who seemed to laugh at something he said. With a scoff, I set my bag on the floor and waited for the lesson to begin.

I really hadn't expected for Weasley to be making fun of me like this. Hadn't he been the one to go through the same thing as I was! Merlin, he was getting some of the stick for what happened last year so really, why was he going out of his way to make things even harder for me. And the poetry of all things! Poetry! As if the note alone wasn't enough of a wound to inflict on me! Why, in Rowena's name, did it have to be poetry? Just thinking about it had the blood rising to my ears as I staved off an embarrassed flush.

Merlin, it was no use. The memory rose unbidden and I stifled a groan, burying my head in my hands. _Poetry!_

Once the potions had worn off – which took _weeks_ – I was left with the memories of what I had done without honestly intending to. For goodness sake, the stupid chocolates had made me chase after a boy who I'd had no interest in – both literally and figuratively. One of the more embarrassing memories that I could recall was that I'd followed him down the corridors after our shared lessons, reciting horrendous poetry as he tried his very best to get away from me. Rowena, it just wasn't fair! I hadn't done it willingly!

I groaned, reaching my hands into my hair. Taking fistfuls, I massaged an oncoming headache and let out a deep breath. Of all the ways Weasley could have possibly tried to make fun of me, he just _had_ to go and force me to remember the most embarrassing one.

"Hanlin," Morag called out tentatively, putting her hand on my arm. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," I assured her, lifting my head quickly and tossing my hair back. Morag clearly didn't believe me, eyes narrowed. Forcing a smile, I spoke quietly as the lesson finally began. "Really, I'm fine. Weasley's just being a prick."

The words made Morag grimace, her eyes automatically shooting towards the Gryffindor who, feeling the heat of her glare, turned to look over his shoulder. Instantly his eyes settled onto Morag who scowled as if just his face made her feel such utter disgust. Weasley' eyebrows rose in surprise, his eyes shifting towards me as if expecting a different reaction from me. Well, he certainly didn't get one. Scoffing quietly, I turned my eyes away from him and looked to the front of the classroom. Bloody Weasley and his bloody antics. He was just lucky that I was too embarrassed to actually do anything about it.

* * *

All anyone could talk about in Ravenclaw tower was the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin which was scheduled to take place this afternoon. And it seemed like the meeting between age-old rival houses meant that everyone was coming out to watch the match which would no doubt end up with the majority of the players needing to make a trip to the hospital wing.

Apparently, the game was also more important than the essay that I was supposed to be writing because why else would Lisa have forcefully pulled me out from our common room and towards the pitch? According to her, she was just acting on the words of Padma who apparently had enough of my hiding out in our dorm. Rowena, I hadn't expected her to understand; she wasn't the one that was reminded of just how much of a twat she made of herself.

To make matters worse I spent most of my lessons in the same class as Weasley, and just seeing the Gryffindor was enough of a reason for me to become so utterly embarrassed that I wanted to run away. The girls all said that there was no need for me to be embarrassed, I had been under the influence of a love potion. None of it was my doing and yet – who else, but I had done it? It had been me that chased after Weasley whenever I spotted the boy. It was me who sent him –

"Rowena's wrath!" I swore suddenly, coming to a stop in my step when Mrs Norris cut in front of us on our way out of the building.

The cat hissed madly, looking up at me with very thinly veiled contempt. Staring apologetically down at the feline, I could only muster a small smile when she _definitely_ began to glare at me. Merlin, just the image of the cat and I was instantly plagued with _very_ vivid memories of charming the cat to serenade Weasley as if that had been a sane thing to do. It was freaky as fuck, and I was yet again, left to wonder what exactly the Weasley twins had put into those horrendous chocolates. Rowena, I couldn't even _look_ at chocolate anymore without getting flashbacks!

"I'm sorry," I said looking down at the cat, as though it could understand what I had to say. Then again, the irritating cat tended to hang onto each word spoken by Mr Filch so who knew what the cat was capable of.

Mrs Norris lifted her nose in the air before trotting off, as if accepting my apology. Lisa watched the cat go before snickering to herself. Linking her arm through mine, she began to drag me the rest of the way towards the pitch.

"For what it's worth," she began through her snickers, "what you did to Mrs Norris last year was downright hysterical."

"Laugh it up," I grumbled as we finally made it to the pitch and started the climb up the stairs towards the seats our dormmates had saved for us. "It put me on Filch's hit list. He tried to get me expelled last year remember?"

"Yeah, that wasn't so funny," Lisa admitted as we took our seats and the teams prepared. "He was actually serious about it and all!"

The game, a bloody long game at that, finally began. I watched the game with as much interest as someone with no fascination towards the sport could, and vaguely noticed that the Malfoy wasn't playing the position of the seeker for the Slytherin team.

And no matter how hard I tried, it seemed almost impossible to stop my eyes from straying towards the Gryffindor keeper who, judging from the scoreboard, was doing a good job of guarding the hoops against the Slytherin team's offensive play. Forcefully pulling my eyes away from the Gryffindor, I made sure not to so much as a glance in the direction for the rest of the game. Even if that did mean that I missed most of the action; it wasn't really a large loss.

Unsurprisingly the Gryffindor team won the match and the spectators took to the pitch to join the celebrations. My dormmates and I waited until most of the students had left the stands and only then did we get up to leave; you only needed to be the victim of one post-game stampede to know that it was better to just sit patiently for another ten minutes than to rush out.

By the time we finally left the stands to exit the pitch through the field, I was far too ready to leave. My mind was already on the essay that was lying unfinished on my bed; so, what if I was working on the essay much earlier than anyone else was? If I finished it as soon as I could, then I could relax and not work myself into a tizzy over potentially not finishing an essay that was long –

"Hanlin!" The call of my surname had me halting instantly, looking around in search of the voice. I found it, eyes settling onto the youngest Weasley who hurried to approach me.

"Can I help you?" I asked slowly, looking at my friends who had stopped beside me.

"There's an after party," the younger girl confessed with a smile and I couldn't stop my eyes from straying over her shoulder towards her brother. The older Weasley stopped a short distance away from her to watch us closely, "to celebrate our victory. It's in Gryffindor tower. Come along with your friends; it'll be fun."

"No thank you," I said with a polite smile, "I've got an essay I need to be working on."

"Well come if you have time," she called out over her shoulder as she turned to join her team in what seemed like a group huddle.

"Maybe," I muttered without any intention of actually going. Turning away from the girl, I hurried away from the pitch and brushed past Weasley without a second glance – even if he _did_ want to say something to me.

"That party," Su started hesitantly, growing silent when Padma elbowed her roughly.

"Go if you want to," I said instantly, sending her a smile. "Don't stay behind for my sake; I've got an essay to finish anyway. So, I doubt I'd be very good company."

* * *

According to Padma and her sister, one tell-tale sign of a good party was that talk that followed it. Usually, that talk referred to the gossip about who had snuck out with who and what the latest scandal was. Last night's party had been no exception; rumour had it that Weasley had found himself accosted by Brown who threw herself at him. And, from the way people had sent looks towards the Gryffindor table where Brown had sat the next morning for breakfast, stabbing her food with her fork, the second part of the rumour about Weasley instantly pushing her away, had some merit too. That didn't stop people from talking though.

Especially not to me about how 'upset' I must have been to have a 'boyfriend' who publicly kissed another girl. Or even, that my crush was so clearly one-sided and how on earth was I going to nurse my broken heart. One arsehole had even offered to help me heal my broken heart – physically. Rowena, I hexed the twat as soon as I possibly could have. It was safe to say that the seventh year had turned away with his tail tucked between his legs.

I could only hope that the gossip would die away quickly or, that if it continued to circulate the castle, that I would at some point, not be involved in it. Clutching my textbook to my chest, I dismissed the thought and continued on my way towards the astronomy tower. After a day cooped up in this castle, a night under the stars was exactly what I needed. Rowena, the unnecessary attention I'd received this year was far too much for me. I'd rather go back to being hidden in the background than constantly being the focus of gossip and rumours. The reason that most students didn't take Astronomy was that the castle was so freaky sometimes after returning from a late-night lesson. But that never seemed to bother me; not when –

"Hanlin," Weasley called out suddenly, jumping out from behind the stairs leading to the tower. The scream that left my throat was shrill and stopped only once I'd realised that it was Weasley.

Taking a shuddering breath, I raised a hand to my thundering heart. Breathing deeply to calm myself, I narrowed my eyes at the Gryffindor who rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I demanded suddenly, way too scared to bother censoring myself for him. Dropping my hand from my chest, I cocked my hip. " _Well?"_

"I – well," Weasley spluttered, seemingly unable to form a single coherent sentence. With an annoyed sigh, I continued to wait to see if he had anything meaningful to say. "I didn't mean to scare you, honest. _Sorry._ "

"That still doesn't explain why you're here," I said with a sigh, only vaguely realising that this was the first _real_ conversation I'd ever had Weasley. I didn't count whatever happened last year and Merlin knew that I went out of my way to avoid him after returning back to Hogwarts for the year. "What were you doing? Were you waiting for me or something?"

"I was," he admitted straightforwardly, only to wince at his own words.

Arching an eyebrow, I waited to see what else he had to say. Except, he didn't appear to have much to say. No, he seemed far too nervous to be able to actually manage to speak again. Weasley's silence continued for a long moment and I sighed, impatiently tapping my feet. Looking at my watch with pursed lips, I made up my mind to just walk past him.

Going to brush right past him, I was forced to stop once again when Weasley stepped into my path. Turning towards Weasley with a barely concealed glare, I asked, "Are you actually going to talk to me now Weasley? Or are you going to just stand there like an utter plonker? _Again?_ "

"I wanted to talk about last year," he said quickly, seeming to fear potentially provoking another outburst from me. Unluckily for him, he'd said the worst thing he could possibly have said.

"Alright then, here's what's going to happen; I'm going to my lesson and _you_ are getting back to Gryffindor Tower. We are _not_ having this conversation –"

"I miss you." The confession was so sudden, so utterly random that the words died in my throat. Of all the ridiculous things he could possibly have said to me _that_ was not something I'd ever counted on hearing him say. Apparently, Weasley seemed to think that I hadn't heard him because he cleared his throat and repeated slowly, "I miss you, Hanlin."

He stared back at me, completely unashamed even as I looked at him like he was mad. "I'm sorry – _what_? What did you just say? No – _why_ did you just say that?"

"It's not often that I get so much attention from someone," Weasley admitted slowly, and I just stared at him in surprise. What the bleeding hell was he going on about _now_? "It might have been embarrassing at first, but now I actually miss it, Hanlin."

"And that's what your little messages have been about?" I asked sceptically. When he nodded, I sighed and tightened my hold on my textbooks. "Do I need to remind you that I spent an entire term making a fool of myself for you? I am _not_ doing that again. No way in hell."

"But it's not _you_ this time," Weasley insisted, watching as I shook my head and went to walk around him to take the stairs up to the tower. "Hanlin! At least listen to me."

"Listen, Weasley," I said with a sigh, stopping halfway up the stairs and turning to look at the still Gryffindor. His eyes held mine for a long moment and I licked my bottom lip hesitantly. "Look; I'm running late for my lesson, so this really wasn't the time for you to be deciding to have this conversation with me. So just save it. Please?"

"Another time then," he accepted quietly.

Even though that was the last thing I wanted, I nodded and agreed – if only to get him off my back. "Another time."

* * *

Six years I had been in this castle, six years I'd had to deal with Gryffindors who didn't know when to quit. And yet, I still somehow managed to underestimate the depth of Gryffindor stubbornness. Rowena, when I'd told Weasley that we'd talk another time, I _really_ hadn't meant it. Anyone with half a brain cell would have been able to see that. But yet, Weasley obviously didn't. The Gryffindor had taken to circling around me as if waiting for his moment. A moment that I was determined never to give him.

One good thing about his new-found determination to actually _speak_ to me was that the annoying notes had stopped. Really, that was simply good for Weasley because one more embarrassing note and I was going to make him face my wand. Maybe Gryffindors did have a survival instinct after all. Even if they _did_ go around trying to get involved in as much trouble as they possibly could.

Then again, his constant presence somewhere around me had led to speculations circulating around the house and goodness knew I was running out of ways to get them to be quiet. Maybe I _would_ take the notes over Weasley appearing out of nowhere to give me a helping hand in his own fumbling way. Which was sort of sweet – especially when he tripped over his own feet on his way out of trying to make an impressive exit.

"You know," Padma started as we walked back to the common room after our last lesson of the day, "I've been thinking about why Weasley seems to be revolving around you so much."

"Why are we still talking about this?" I asked with very obvious annoyance. "How many times can we possibly talk about the same thing?"

"Until it stops being interesting," Lisa piped up from the other side of Padma, laughing slightly when I narrowed my eyes at her. "What were you saying Padma?"

"Maybe he misses last year," Padma said with a shrug. "Think about it; you were practically revolving around him for an entire term and then you stop it completely. Doesn't it make sense that he misses it?"

"Well, he's already told me that," I said absentmindedly, glancing sharply towards my dormmates when Padma gasped. "I hadn't told you that?"

"No, you hadn't."

Well, maybe the reason I hadn't told them about it was because I knew that it would only make them continue to talk about it for who knew how much longer. Rowena, I did _not_ need that.

"Speaking of Weasley," Padma said quietly, gesturing down the corridor.

I followed her eyes, trying and failing not to groan at the sight of the approaching Gryffindor. He was obviously returning from his Quidditch practice, decked still in the uniform and I didn't need to meet his eyes to know that he intended to talk to me. Before I could stop them, my friends were already walking away from me and no matter how much I tried to call after them, they just didn't listen. Bloody Mandy even looked over her shoulder to wink at me and I glared openly at her.

Looking back to the approaching Gryffindor, I wondered what the likelihood of him letting me walk right past him was. Merlin, I could just easily duck away but I didn't doubt that he would be quick to follow after me. Rowena's wrath, this was going to be annoying.

Coming to a reluctant halt, I sighed and adjusted my hold on my textbooks. It was just better to get this over and done with. Weasley, realising that I was waiting for him, grinned suddenly and quickened his steps until he stopped before me. He held out his arms suddenly as if wanting a hug and Rowena, I took an instant step back.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I – nothing." Weasley cleared his throat as he murmured, "Your books. I just wanted to carry your books."

"Well don't," I said sharply, narrowing my eyes at him. The glare was enough to root him to the spot. But only for a moment.

Throwing his hands up in surrender, Weasley complained, "What now? What could I possibly have done now?"

"Just stop it," I said with a reluctant sigh, "Just stop it; don't be so nice to me."

"You don't want me to be nice to you?" he asked quietly as if questioning my sanity. And why shouldn't he because even _I_ was questioning my sanity because what other explanation was there for why he looked adorable as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Just stop it or else –"

"Or else what?" he asked quickly, realising that I'd forcefully cut myself off.

Well – honesty _was_ the best policy after all.

"Or else I'll fall in love with you again," I admitted with a sigh. As if _he_ was the one that was supposed to be feeling embarrassed, Weasley flushed to the tip of his ears. "And you won't love me back… again."

"But that's the whole point," he blurted out suddenly, rushing a few steps towards me before he caught himself. " _I'm_ the one that's fallen this time."

"Except you _haven't!_ God, I have no idea how to explain this to you."

"Well try." He crossed his arms over his chest, clearly planning on going nowhere until we got this out of the way.

"That girl – the one that made an entire fool of herself for you-you have to understand – _that girl wasn't me_."

"Alright, that wasn't you," he agreed so easily that I almost floundered. "But I didn't fall for _that_ girl, did I? I fell for the one in front of me."

"You're so bloody stubborn," I groaned, tipping my head back with a sigh. "What the bleeding hell is it going to take for you to let me just get back to my common room?"

With a smile that was too wide, too easy, too _adorable,_ Weasley held out his arms again. "Books."

Silently, I handed the pile of books over to him and pointedly ignored his grin. Brushing past him without another word, I absolutely did _not_ feel my heart falter in the footsteps which trailed happily after me. Easily dropping into step beside me, Weasley walked so close to me that his arm brushed against my own. Even then I didn't tell him to move away.

* * *

God, what _was_ I doing here? Really, what reason did I possibly have for agreeing with Weasley's outrageous request to meet him in the Three Broomsticks. I could just turn and walk back to the castle, and he'd have no idea. I could do that and yet, yet I pushed the doors open and walked in anyway.

No one said that being a Ravenclaw meant that I was smart. Because the smart thing in this situation would be to head back to the castle or to join my friends as they walked around the village. The smart thing was _not_ joining Weasley who waved me over the moment he saw me.

With a sigh, I crossed the room with slow steps and reached the booth where he was sat. Weasley looked up at me with a smile, gesturing for me to sit. But instead, I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes.

"You said you had something to say to me," I started slowly. "So, say it and then we can move on."

He grinned, seeing right through me no matter how much I tried. Reclining in his seat, he asked, "Why can't you just say that you missed me? Admit it. You missed me this week."

Maybe I _had_ missed him this week because he had decided to stop paying any attention to me. And maybe I _had_ wondered whether or not this was how he'd felt at the beginning of the year. But there was no way in hell that I was ever going to admit that to him. No, I'd sooner die.

"I see you only called me, so you could talk out of your arse. Seeing as you don't have anything important to say, I'm going back to the castle."

Weasley was on his feet in an instant, reaching out to catch my arm. I stared back at him in annoyance, glancing pointedly at his hand on me.

"Ok, ok," he said with a sigh, lifting his hand from me and gesturing for me to sit. "Just sit down."

Settling down with a sigh, I very reluctantly settled down beside him in the booth. Angling my body towards him, I tried not to demand that the annoying Gryffindor began to speak before I really _did_ leave him sitting alone. Except maybe words weren't the Gryffindor's strong suit because why else would he decide to suddenly reach out to play with my hair. I narrowed my eyes at him, moving instantly away from him. The irritating boy just smiled like a fool.

If he wasn't going to speak, then I guess I would need to be the one to talk first. "Just so you know, the next time I see your imbecilic brothers, I am going to kill them."

"That sounds like you want to go to mine for Christmas," he teased, and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Quit it, Weasley."

He raised his hands in surrender and I crossed my arms, wondering just how much longer this was going to go on for. Because this was going to become very annoying very quickly, if he was just going to sit there like a bloody buffoon.

"Listen," my voice trailed off slightly when Weasley reached out to tuck some of my hair behind my ear, his eyes growing solemn. Merlin, that didn't suit him. Clearing my throat, I asked quietly, "What is it?"

"You know what Gryffindors are like, right?" he asked gently.

"Of course, I do." Barely concealing in an eye-roll, I reminded him, "I've been going to school with you lot for years now."

"Then you know that when there's something we need to do, that we just need to do it."

"Oh god," I muttered under my breath, "what is it now?"

"Just understand that I need to do this or else I'll go mad." He reached out towards me and I drew slightly away from him. "Just promise not to hex me."

His eyes flickered to my lips and I knew instantly what he intended on doing. It would have been so easy for me to pull away, but I didn't do that, believing that a warning would be enough. "Try it and I'll kill you, Weasley."

But of course, he didn't care. I should have known better than to think that a simple warning was going to deter him. He drew closer to me and kissed me anyway. And even though I _really,_ really shouldn't have done it, my hand rose up to frame his jaw to pull him closer. It was only when someone cleared their throat primly, that I drew away from him. Looking past a rather started Weasley, I glanced over his shoulder at the glaring Gryffindor. Of bloody course, it would be Brown, wouldn't it?

Shuffling away from Weasley, I waited for the rather dazed look to slip away from his face. Raising an eyebrow, I laughed a little incredulously when he blushed under my eyes.

"Are you back to being yourself?" He nodded, and I tried not to laugh again. "Just so you know, if Brown comes after me, I'm going to kill you."

The words, for some unknown reason, had him grinning goofily at me. "You said you'd kill me before but look what just happened."

"I swear to God –"

"If it's anything like just now, I think I'll die a happy man." I scoffed, unable to hide my smile. Weasley leaned in again and I reached out to push him away from me by his shoulder. He laughed easily at that. "Maybe next time?"


	2. Epilogue: 8 Years Later

_8 YEARS LATER_

When you married into a family as large as the one I had married into, it was only natural that you ended up babysitting kids when their parents decided that they were in the need of some rest. Merlin, I'd lost count of the number of times I'd babysat the kids within the first few months of marrying Ron. The number was so large that at times even Ron got a little annoyed to come home only to find one of his nieces or nephews settled in our living room. Not that he'd ever voice those thoughts, but the expression on his face was more than enough.

Even today, little James Sirius had been dropped off by his parents, so the new parents could get some much-needed alone time. But, just going by how large their dark circles had been, I very much doubted that they were doing anything more than going home to sleep. Yet another reason to put a brake on all this baby business that seemed to be going round at the moment.

James, having only just turned one, seemed rather excited about spending some time without his parents but I could only wonder whether he'd continue to feel that way by the time the evening deepened into the beginnings of the night. Rowena knew how the infant would feel about spending his first night away from home. But, from where he was held in my lap and playing with my hair, he didn't seem very fussed about it.

"You are so cute," I cooed, reaching out to pinch his cheek very lightly. James looked up at the gesture, laughing in delight at the attention he was receiving. "You've got the chubbiest cheeks, I could just eat you up."

"Oh, give it a rest," Ron grumbled, seated on the other end of the sofa. I looked up with an incredulous smile, shaking my head.

"You're behaving like a brat."

"It's not my fault; I can't even sulk that you're paying so much attention to another man."

Barely summoning the effort to roll my eyes, I looked down at the peaceful child in my arms who decided to giggle, as if he too found his uncle ridiculous. "Isn't that right James? He's just being a big silly man, isn't he?"

Nodding his head, James leaned in towards me as he grew tired once again. Resting his head against my chest, he brought a hand up to his mouth, eyes growing heavy. Making no effort to fight the affectionate smile and the rush of maternal emotion that welled up in me – an emotion I would deny possessing – I brushed my thumb over his rosy cheeks.

"Love," Ron called out quietly, and suddenly I became aware of the weight of his stare on me. For some reason, I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes and stilled slightly when he called out my name.

Humming quietly in response, I kept my eyes focused on James who started to fuss, fighting the urge to fall asleep. Adjusting my hold on the dark-haired child, I rocked him back and forth slowly to try and lull him to sleep.

"What do you think about having one?" Ron asked suddenly, and I did my very best not to freeze under his eyes.

Clearing my throat, I asked quietly, "One what?"

"You _know_ what."

Stiffening for a moment, I forced myself to raise my eyes to meet my husband's waiting ones. It wasn't like I could ignore him, to leave this debate hanging any longer. Frankly, I was surprised that Ron had managed to wait so long before talking to me about it. Ron kept his eyes on mine, waiting patiently for me to say something because if there was one thing he knew after all these _years,_ it was that it was better for him to just let me think in peace when it came to times like this.

"Ron I –"

James, as if he'd inherited his father's ability to know when someone needed his help, let out a sudden scream, piercing the tension instantly. I looked quickly to the crying babe and rose to my feet, trying to calm him. But it seemed impossible to do and I hurried over towards Ron and shifted his squirming nephew towards him.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"I need to fix his bottle," I explained before practically running out of the room and into the kitchen.

So, what if I was using fixing James' bottle as the excuse I needed to rush out of that downright dangerous situation? It wasn't like I had made James cry either. The boy had just decided to do it himself. Once I was done fixing James' bottle, I hesitated as if to draw the time out longer. But I couldn't wait long; Ron would eventually come out in search of me.

With a sigh, I very reluctantly walked back to the front room only to find James sleeping peacefully in his uncle's arms. Eyeing the bottle of warm milk in my hand, I crossed the room to settle down on the arm of the chair Ron was seated comfortably in. Holding the bottle out without a word, I watched quietly as Ron fed James in his sleep. Just how often did babies sleep anyway?

"You know," Ron started quietly, turning towards me with patient eyes, "you never did answer my question."

"Didn't I?" I asked quietly, reaching out to run a hand through his hair as if that would distract him.

It failed miserably and if anything, he saw right through it and started to smile slowly. "No, you really didn't. So? What about it?"

"You'll wake James up," I said quickly.

"Love –"

"Shh." I reached out to cover his mouth with my hands. "Ginny says that James' is a nightmare to get back to sleep once he's been woken."

He started to laugh, the sound smothered by my palm. "Ybsv unbefvle."

And we'd ended up in this situation so often that I knew that meant 'You're unbelievable.'


End file.
